


The Invitation

by Electakyu



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Cannibalism, Choking, Come Swallowing, Dirty Talk, Domestic, Established Relationship, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Face Slapping, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Murder Husbands, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Season/Series 03, Power Play, Role Reversal, Shower Sex, Smut, at the fanon-popular safe house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 16:31:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electakyu/pseuds/Electakyu
Summary: Will wakes up to an invitation from Hannibal. It's part of a scene they play now and then, an elegant evening carefully orchestrated for both their pleasure.But this time, something is different.





	The Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick one-shot to prevent myself getting totally burnt out! Let me know what you think :)  
> You can also catch me on Tumblr (castielpunk).

Will awoke to a handwritten note on his nightstand and an empty space beside him on the bed. He turned the note over a few times in his hand. It was addressed to him, in beautiful cursive writing. A wax seal, black and shimmering. He fingered it open.

“Dear Will,

You are invited to dinner this evening at the Safe House. Please be dressed and ready by 7 o’clock. The evening is anticipated to run well into the early hours of the morning. Formal dress is expected. Please do not bring a plus one.

Yours, as always,

Hannibal.”

Unable to stop himself smiling as he read through, Will let the butterflies that erupted in stomach dance his excitement. He loved when Hannibal invited him to something so mundane as dinner at home in so extravagant a manner.

No plus one meant that the dogs were not invited. With that thought, Will forced himself up to take them for a walk.

Hannibal wasn’t back by the time Will and the pups returned, so he must be out hunting. Will decided to give the kitchen a good clean. He pictured that tickled look on Hannibal’s face, coming back to a sparkling canvas on which to create his masterpiece. 

But the kitchen was already spotless. With a sigh, Will resigned himself to an afternoon of writing. Lykke, a huge, fluffy, mongrel of a creature, snoozed happily beside him as he worked. From time to time he dropped a hand into her fur to give a distracted pat, and he was rewarded with the lazy thump of tail on rug.

As afternoon turned into evening, he put his writing away and took Lykke and Jiyuu - a quiet and stately old chihuahua - to their bedroom. He settled them and shut them away, happy in the knowledge their whines would soon become snores. 

Once he was in the shower, he heard the front door open and close. Hannibal was back. It was part of the charade for Will to pretend he didn’t know, to hide upstairs while Hannibal cooked, and only to come down when it was time. 

Today, though, was different. As Will prepared to slick shampoo through his hair, he could make out the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and they were unmistakably Hannibal’s. He switched off the water. His forehead creased.

Hannibal knocked on the door sharply. Concern nipping his belly, Will stepped out into the steam-filled bathroom and grabbed a towel. He wrapped it around his waist and opened the door.

There stood Hannibal, hair in disarray, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. His shirt and face were spattered with blood and his eyes were bright.

“What’s wrong?” said Will, fighting back a shiver in spite of the hot steam billowing out into the hallway.

“I couldn’t wait,” replied Hannibal. 

With that, he slipped his hands around Will’s neck and captured him in an all-consuming, breathtaking kiss. 

Will’s head pounded from the heat. Hannibal’s smooth hands were made rough with the blood dried onto them, which in turn softened as it mixed with the water falling from Will’s sodden hair. 

Hannibal moaned deep in his throat, and goosebumps sprang up on Will’s skin. He couldn’t tell if he was pulling Hannibal into the bathroom, or if Hannibal was pushing. But when Hannibal broke the kiss to shut them in, he stopped caring.

There were bruises at Hannibal’s throat, blood all the way up his arms, darker at the nails. His shirt was ruined - and what dry-cleaner would take it in that state? - and a three-fingered scratch had been scored down his chest. 

Will discarded the towel when Hannibal began shedding his clothes. There was another bruise blooming on his hip, though it would be sure to be more tender tomorrow.

“What happened?”

Hannibal kissed him again, lips moving in a fervorous rhythm. Will let his question disappear into Hannibal’s mouth. He hissed at the feel of cold tiles at his back, and dug his fingernails into Hannibal’s hips. 

Electricity shot down his spine as the tips of their tongues touched, and the worry that sat on his brow smoothed to lust. He sucked Hannibal’s lower lip into his mouth and bit down, eliciting another rumbling moan.

Will shifted his weight forward to push his body flush against Hannibal’s. His foot slipped out from under him and his stomach dropped. Their lips parted with a wet pop.

Hannibal caught him by the arm and pushed him back against the wall, holding him firm. His erection bounced against Will’s leg, and in becoming aware of it Will felt a throbbing start at his own groin. He let his head rest back against the wall so he could drink in the bliss of Hannibal, bloodied and bruised, kissing and biting at his neck. 

When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he pulled Hannibal off by his hair. 

Hannibal moaned, so Will pulled a little harder. Then Hannibal’s hand was around his throat.

“Do you want to … get in the shower?” Will gasped, eyes flitting shut in pleasure. 

“Forgetting something, Will?”

He squeezed a little harder.

“Do you want to get in the shower, sir?”

“Better.”

He let go. Will admired the sight of him turning away, his muscular back and perfectly curved cheeks, his strong arm lifting to sweep his hair back out of his eyes. 

“Come.”

Hannibal switched on the hot water. There was just enough room for Will to squeeze in beside him, teased by the closeness of the hot water just blocked by Hannibal’s body. 

But Hannibal wasn’t teasing. Not this time. 

He squeezed a handful of lotion out and smeared it up Will’s shaft and around the head. The contact was agonising in its abruptness, but that rapidly gave way to waves of ecstasy. Will braced himself with a hand against the wall. Hannibal’s eyes drilled into his, mouth quirked up in a self-satisfied smile. 

Will’s heart hammered in his chest. The eye contact felt so intimate, and only Hannibal was allowed, for this length of time. In the eye contact, he could feel Hannibal reaching with his mind, joining them beyond the physical. 

Hannibal’s hand moved up the shaft and he gave a gentle rub at the frenulum. Will couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. His head dipped forward to rest on Hannibal’s shoulder, water tapping his neck in an unbroken rhythm. 

Hannibal chuckled, and dropped a kiss on Will’s forehead. Will could only cling to him, for what felt like an age, as he worked him closer to release. 

Suddenly he stopped. Will groaned, aching for the friction to come back. 

“Patience,” murmured Hannibal. 

Patience meant step back. Patience meant don’t touch. Patience meant Hannibal was intending to draw this out. 

Will stepped back obediently, against the wall again leaving just a hands’ width between them.     

Hannibal started rinsing the blood from his arms, chest and face, rubbing slowly as the red mixed with the water and swirled away down the drain.

“Do you like seeing me torn and bruised?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” said Will.

“Do you like the thought of another man having his hand around my throat?”

Will didn’t have to shut his eyes to picture it. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you like imagining me gasping for breath, nearing my end?”

He was almost finished cleaning himself.

“Yes, sir.” 

Will desperately wanted to stroke his cock and ease the tension. But he knew Hannibal wouldn’t let him. It was delicious.

“This one almost got the better of me,” said Hannibal. He was running a thumb over the tip of his own erection, smearing the pre-cum over the head and letting it wash away. 

Will watched hungrily.

“I’m glad he didn’t,” he replied. 

“We can eat him for breakfast tomorrow. Do you want that, Will?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you want me, Will?”

“God, yes.”

Hannibal reached behind himself and switched off the water. The sudden absence of the rushing sound caused a rushing sound itself, Will’s ears trying to fill the vacuum of noise it left behind.

Hannibal closed the gap between them. His eyes were heavy as he peered at Will’s flushed face.

“Yes, what?”

Will dared to place a hand on Hannibal’s throat, lining his fingers up with the bruises. Hannibal let him. He tilted his head back to allow Will a better grip. 

“Yes,” said Will bluntly.

He felt Hannibal’s Adam’s apple jump as he laughed.

“Are we playing that game tonight?”

Will couldn’t help but smile. The dare had paid off. He squeezed.

“Go to the bedroom.”

Hannibal licked his lips, but didn’t object. When Will released his grip, he obeyed.

Will followed him and shut the bedroom door with force. 

They were both still soaked from the shower, and the water spread a dark tide over the bed sheet where Hannibal lay. Will took a moment to appraise him.

Clean but for the scab over the scratch on his chest, tousled and bright from the hot shower. Sprawled, arms above his head, legs parted slightly, erection lying nearly flat.  A real picture. 

Will searched in a cupboard for the bottle of lube he knew was there. His hands closed over a length of rope first and he withdrew it. Holding it up, he gave Hannibal a questioning look.

Hannibal cocked an eyebrow. Then nodded his consent. 

Will almost tripped over his feet in his eagerness to get to the bed. Hannibal allowing such role-reversal in the bedroom was rare. It came sporadically, when he was fired up from a hunt gone almost awry as it had tonight, or from seeing Will getting murderous, or on an unfathomable whim. 

“You want me to hurt you?” Will asked, as he tied Hannibal’s hands to the bed frame.

Hannibal wiggled to settle himself against the pillows.

“Yes.”

“Say please. It’s good manners.”

“Yes, please.”    

“That’s better.”

There was a certain thrill to telling Hannibal off and that thrill was the final straw. Will’s body cried out with want. 

He rushed back to the cupboard for the lube, then slicked some over his erection, squeezing lightly. He knelt on the bed between Hannibal’s legs. Hannibal was fighting against his instincts to give himself over to Will, and Will could feel it. It was in the tension of the muscles of Hannibal’s thighs as Will lifted and parted them. 

It was in the wild expression of his eyes as Will leaned forward to press into his hole. It was in the sharp gasp, the breathy laugh as Will slapped him hard across the face. 

“More.”

“You don’t get to command me. Not today.”

“More, please,” Hannibal corrected himself. 

“What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

Will slowly pushed forward until Hannibal was completely enveloping him.

“I want you to hurt me.”

“Tell me how.”

Will was dying to hear it all come out of Hannibal’s mouth. Filthy words from someone so pristine and polite. Commands disguised as requests. Domination wrapped up in begging. 

“I want you to put my legs over your shoulders. To stretch my muscles and open me to you.”

Will did as Hannibal said, and had to give a couple of thrusts. He couldn’t resist it.

“I want you to fuck me slowly while you dig your fingers into my throat.”

Closing a hand round Hannibal’s throat, it was Will who gave a deep moan, his stretching forward pushing his cock deeper into Hannibal.

He began rocking his hips, a slow, careful pace as Hannibal requested. He couldn’t stop looking at Hannibal’s face as he did so; his lips were open in a silent moan, his eyes screwed shut against the pain and the pleasure.

“Harder. Please.”

Will squeezed harder at Hannibal’s throat, and fucked him harder all at once. Without quite realising it he was being caught up in the reverie, and he was picking up speed.

“Yes,” said Hannibal, his tone deepening to his command-voice. “Faster, Will.”

Will obeyed, his breath coming quicker, sweat springing up over his whole body. He had to release Hannibal’s neck to balance himself against the bed. 

“Hit me, Will.”

Will knew if he did it without protest he was giving up his position of dominance. 

“Say … please.”

God he was getting close.

“Please, Will. Hit me.”

Will slapped his cheek again, hard. Hannibal moaned loudly and bucked his hips. Without being asked, he did it a third time.

“Fuck,” Hannibal shouted, his eyes flying open. 

His penetrating gaze captured Will yet again. It shot straight to his balls as absolute heat, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Reaching between them, he began stroking Hannibal’s erection, long quick strokes to match the pace he was using to fuck him.

“Come for me, Hannibal.”

Looking straight into Hannibal’s eyes, telling him to come, was almost too much. 

“Yes, sir.”

That was enough. Will came hard, strokes becoming shudders as he emptied inside Hannibal. He pulled out with a sigh, and knelt there for a moment, on all fours, watching his cum dribble out of the slightly gaping hole. 

Hannibal was silent, but for his quick, deep breaths. 

Will gave himself a moment for his head to clear. His heart started to slow down as the fog of bliss washed over him.

But he wasn’t done yet. Shooting Hannibal a languorous grin, he lowered himself and began licking up Hannibal’s shaft. 

There would be Hell to pay if he didn’t get Hannibal off too.

After a few slow licks, he took the sensitive head into his mouth and sucked. Varying his speed, alternating between long licks and quick sucks, he drew gasping moans from Hannibal, who no longer had any commands to give.

Will knew this part like the back of his hand. Instructions now would be insulting.

It took a good few minutes, and Will’s jaw was beginning to ache, but it was worth it. It was worth it to hear Hannibal curse loudly as the hot, salty cum pulsed into Will's mouth. When it was over, he sat up and swallowed. 

Hannibal strained against his bindings as Will stretched his back. 

“Will.”

The word was filled with warmth, and a little pressure. Having had his fun, Will relented and untied Hannibal. 

They slipped under the blanket, both getting cold now as they came down from the heady afterglow. Legs entwined, foreheads pressed together. 

Hannibal kissed Will on the nose after a moment of sheer peace. 

“I apologise for failing to deliver dinner as promised,” he said. 

Will chuckled. He’d forgotten about dinner, truthfully. A drawn-out grumble told him his stomach hadn’t.

“We could just order a pizza.”

It took a full twenty minutes to get Hannibal to speak to him again.


End file.
